Right and Wrong
by varietyofwords
Summary: Casey finally figures out what is right and what is wrong. CaseyCappie, as always. One-shot.


**Title:** Right And Wrong

**Fandom:** Greek

**Coupling:** Casey/Cappie with a side of Casey/Evan

**Words: **3,194

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer/Author's Note: **Another one of those little gems I found on my old hard drive and decided to fix up for your enjoyment. I'm not overly thrilled with it but you guys can decide for yourselves.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ashleigh asks as she guides the blond in her arms up the Zeta Beta Zeta house staircase.

"I'm a okay," Casey Cartwright yells with a trailing laugh.

"Shh, Casey. We don't want Lizzi to come out here and find you as drunk as a skunk," Ashleigh reminds her best friend and sorority president.

"Ashy, you're funny," Casey whispers at a decimal level one could argue didn't constitute a whisper. "Really, really, really, really, really funny."

"Alright, let's get you in bed before you over do it on those 'really's," Ashleigh says as she swings open the door to her and Casey's bedroom. Now is the time that she wished Casey _had_ moved into Frannie's old room but, then again, she would have had to share a room with Lizzi and Ashleigh would not wish _that_ on even her biggest enemy.

--

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ash, turn it off," Casey groans, her head throbbing.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ashleigh," she groans again.

But the beeping doesn't stop and Casey mumbles incoherently against the sheets as her right hand snakes across the bed. She lifts it in order to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock but instead, her hand hits the mattress and she is surprised that her queen bed is now at least the width of a king, probably more so of a California king.

On top of that, the _sheets_ feel differently.

As she tries to will her eyes to open, her mind races with wonderment of how she got in a strange bed and she prays that she has not had a repeat of the Jonah incident.

But her throbbing headache makes it impossible for her _actually_ open her eyes.

The door creaks open and feet pad softly across the room, like they are trying not to wake her up. Casey, figuring the intruder to be Ashleigh but not entirely sure, makes more of an effort to open her eyes.

Until, that is, blinding sunlight fills the room and the harsh light makes her forget about opening them.

"Señora Chambers," a woman's voice floats into her ears, her accent thick and warm.

With that, Casey's eyes fly open and her gaze immediately fixates on a middle age Spanish woman wearing a light blue shift dress and a white apron.

_Señora what?_

"Huh," Casey mumbles.

"Lo siento, Señora Chambers. I not know you still sleeping," the woman says with a bob of her head. "Señor not tell me."

"I, uh, it's all right," Casey says as she slides out of bed. Her short, silky nightgown makes the Hispanic woman purse her lips together and clutch the golden crucifix around her neck and Casey snatches the matching robe off the armchair.

The woman smiles and begins to rip the sheets off the bed while Casey shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Something wrong, Señora?"

"No, no," Casey says with a shake of her head. Her eyes dart around the room before she marches across the room and snatches a cell phone off of the vanity. She pauses, looking for a hiding place until she can figure out what's going on, before dashing into the bathroom.

The Hispanic woman just chuckles as Casey slams the oak door behind her.

"Loco en la cabasa, sí," the woman says with a chuckle.

Abbey? No.

Abbie? Double no.

Abby? Triple no.

Abigail? No.

Addison B? No.

Addison E? No.

Addison R? No, again.

Addison W? No, _again_.

Adelaide? No.

Adeline? No.

Adrianna? No.

Adrianne? No.

Aeryn's Mom? No.

Afrodille's Mom? No.

Agatha's Mom? No.

Alessa? No.

Alissa? Double no.

Alyssa? Triple no.

Casey jabs the down button harder and skips over the Alexa's, Alexandria's, Allison's, Anastasia's, Angelina's, Annabelle's, and Arbela's until she sees the one name she's been searching for, Ashleigh.

Holding down the green call button, she waits for the ringing to stop.

"Hi, you've reached Ashleigh," Ashleigh's sing-song-y voice floats out of the cell phone's minuscule speaker. "If you are anyone but my _former_ best friend Casey Chambers, than please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you. If you are Casey Chambers, go fudge a cow."

"What in the world?" Casey asks out loud.

"Casey!" A voice comes through the door. "Are you alright?"

"Evan?"

"Casey, come on out of there," the voice booms back at her. Casey stands up and unlocks the door to the toilet room.

"Evan, I'm so gla…" Casey starts as she throws her arms around her boyfriend.

_Ex-boyfriend_, a little voice somewhere in her body reminds her.

"What are you doing?" He diminishes. "I don't have time today, you know that. This meeting with the partners will make or break my career and you're holed up in the bathroom."

"Partners?" Casey questions with a furrow of her brow.

"Esperanza says you're acting like a crazy woman. I thought you had gone for your jog with Addison."

"Which one?" Casey mumbles.

"What? Never mind. I have to go. You have to drop Junior, Evangeline, and Evalyn off at school. Think you can handle that?" Evan ebbs and without waiting for a response, he storms out of the room.

"Twenty minutes," Evan calls over his shoulder.

"Evan, wait!" Casey calls to no avail.

The woman Casey now assumes is Esperanza stands against the bathroom door, the sheets of the bed overflowing in her arms.

"Clothes?" Casey questions. Esperanza doesn't response. Instead, she jerks her head to the side and leaves the room.

--

Five minutes later, Casey is wearing a pair of blue jeans, black baler flats, and a quarter sleeve pink shirt. Her blond hair is pulled back into a pony tail and her face is make-up less.

"Mommy," a whiny voice calls from behind her. "June your took my teddy bear."

Casey turns around, hoping that when she does there will be no Evangeline or Evalyn behind her. Instead, when she opens her eyes, a blond hair, blue eyed five year-old is staring back up at her.

"Evalyn," Casey says taking a stab in the dark as the little girl latches herself onto Casey's leg.

"What are you _doing_?" A male voice says in the same tone as Evan spoke to her earlier. "We're gonna be late."

"Junior," Casey says on a sigh. "Where's Evageline?"

"How the fuck should I know," Junior replies. Casey looks at him with bewilderment but before she can scold him another little girl comes in the bathroom.

"Mom! We're gonna be late! You're gonna ruin my perfect attendance!" Evangeline says, her voice reaching a whinier decimal with every word.

"Okay, okay," Casey assures. "Uh, clothes! Go get dressed!"

Casey snatches up her cell phone off the counter as she herds the kids out of the bathroom. Typing in Evan's familiar cell phone number, she holds the phone to one ear as she stares at the house in amazement.

"You've reached Evan Chambers. Please leave your name and number and I'll ge…"

"Shit," Casey sputters as Evalyn stares at her with wide eyes.

"No potty words!" Evalyn scolds.

"Err, right," Casey says. "No potty words. So, Evalyn, can I ask you something?"

"Uh huh," Evalyn says with a nod.

"Are we on TV?"

"Nooo," Evalyn drags out.

"Then who's your mommy?"

"You are!" She yells with a smile.

_Oh, great_, Casey thinks. _They even have the kid in on it._

--

Five wrong turns later, Casey pulls the black Lexus SUV through the gates and stops in a long line of SUVs that match hers. At the very front of the line is a brick building covered in ivy, fitting since the school is apparently called The Ivy Preparatory and Day School.

"Okay, we're here," Casey says throwing the car into park and turning around to face the kids.

"We can't get out _here_," Evangeline informs her.

"Okay, where _do_ you get out?"

"At the front, duh," Evangeline says. "You have to wait in line."

"But if I do that I'll be late for work," Casey says with a hint of questioning and annoyance. All she hopes is that once she drops the kids off, Ashton Kutcher will walk about saying she had just been punk'd.

Or on Candid Camera.

Casey would settle for _anything_ right about now.

"You don't work," Junior says with a snort and a roll of his eyes.

"Then what do I do?"

"I don't know," Junior says. "Pluck your eyebrows. Go tanning. Work out so Dad won't chunk your fat, pregnancy bloated ass out on to the street and get a _real_ trophy wife."

Casey doesn't even say anything. Instead, she just stares at the boy, who looks a lot like Evan, with her jaw dropped.

"That's not nice, June your," Evalyn says. "Mommy, you're pwetty."

But Casey can't hear the little girl's compliment because despite the fact that she believes that she is on Punk'd or Candid Camera, if this is how her life with Evan could have turned, out she wants _no_ part of it.

--

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ash, turn it off," Casey groans, her head throbbing.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ashleigh," she groans again.

But the beeping doesn't stop and Casey mumbles incoherently against the sheets as her right hand snakes across the bed. When her hand rises to smack the alarm clock's snooze button, it comes in direct contact with the wooden surface of the nightstand.

"Oww," Casey cries out as she pushes herself up in bed. Her eyelids flutter open as she takes a glance at her throbbing, red palm.

And then her eyes dart to the covers of the bed. The deep red, while pretty, is not the color of her duvet at ZBZ.

"Not _again_," Casey groans as she throws back the duvet and accompanying sheets.

That is, until the stark realization that she is, in fact, naked.

As in Adam and Eve _naked_.

Gasping, she grabs the only article clothing in her reach, a brown shirt lying on the floor. Slipping it on, the soft comfort of the shirt hangs loosely against her small frame and the mirror hanging above the dresser across from her informs of what the shirt she's wearing broadcasts to the world, 'If you think I'm hot, you should see my wife.'

"Oh, please, oh, please, don't let him be married," Casey whispers as her eyes scan the bedroom for any signs of married life. Her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach, she crosses the room on shaky legs and she gingerly picks up a photo of a couple on their wedding.

There, in the photo, is her in the wedding gown she had dreamed about since she was a little girl and her groom is a guy who is looking at her like she's the only one in the room.

Her groom is Cappie.

She can't help the small smile the forces its way on to her face.

Casey's index finger traces the outline of his face before she sets the picture frame back in it's place and picks up another.

This time the photograph is of her looking out into the distance. The shot is a bit fuzzy, as though an amateur photographer took it, but her eyes are vibrant and Casey can tell the woman, _herself_, is trying hard to pretend that the photographer is going unnoticed. Gingerly, she sets the frame back down and her eyes scan all of the photographs before picking up one in the back.

This one is a photo taken at Dobler's but Casey doesn't remember this one and the Casey and Cappie in it aren't the same freshman year Casey and Cappie.

Her smiles increase with the knowledge that this photo is taken during spring semester of junior year or their senior year.

When she and Cappie get back together.

"Taking a trip down memory lane?" A voice asks causing her to jump.

"Cappie," she says with a sigh of relief, her right hand traveling up to her heart to calm its restlessness.

"Wearing my favorite shirt, I see," he says with a grin as he leans up against the door jam.

"Uh, yeah. I guess," she says glancing down to look at her shirt before darting a glance over to the one he's wearing.

'Cade Advertising.'

"Like the new ones? Wade just dropped them off."

"They're, uh, nice," Casey says. His brows furrow at her hesitation but he apparently decides to drop it and move on.

"So, how about a famous Casey Cartwright omelet?" He asks with a gesture towards where ever he came from.

She doesn't respond.

"And here's the part where you say it's Casey Cappington now…" he informs her, his voice trailing off uncomfortably.

"Do we have kids?" She blurts out before she can stop herself.

"No…Case, are you alright?"

"Yes, maybe. No."

"Did you hit your head or something?" Cappie asks, his voice filled with concern.

Casey, hesitantly, slowly shakes her head no.

"Is there something I did wrong?"

"No, no. I just…Can I have that famous Casey Cart…_Cappington_ omelet?" She asks with extra emphasis on Cappington.

"Sure thing," he says as a smile slips back onto his face and he leads the way into the small kitchen. Underneath the white cabinets are tiny, little red squares that make up the back splash and stainless steel appliances glare down at her from their places around the galley kitchen. Cappie throws open the refrigerator door and starts to pile things in his hand.

"Case, why don't you…"

"Get dressed?" She finishes for him.

"No, I was going to say watch TV. Who said anything about you getting dressed?" He says with a pause for silence. "That's what I thought, Mrs. Cappie."

"Okay," Casey says before turning around and heading over to the couch. Sitting down, she can't help but pick up the white album entitled, 'Our Wedding.'

Casey flips through it, pausing only to smile at Cappie's overwhelming grin. Not to say that she wasn't obviously happy as well, Cappie just looked happier. In a I-got-the-girl-in-the-end kinda way.

And then she sees it. Rebecca Logan was in her wedding.

"Oh my God," Casey says as Cappie heads over to the couch.

"What?"

"Nothing," Casey says as she snaps the album closed and drops it onto the coffee table.

"Looking at that old thing, again?" Cappie says with a laugh as he hands her a plate.

"Uh, yeah," she says as she takes a bit out of her omelet.

"Good?" She nods her head and receives a smile. "Not as good as your's but I've been practicing," he says with a soft smile.

"Case, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Come on, Case," he says placing his hand on her bare knee. "We've been married for, like, _ever_," he trails off. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"What? No," Casey sputters as she jumps up. "No."

"Okay, okay," he says with his hands up. "I was just asking. Hate to come home and have you tell me your water just broke or something."

She gives him a nervous laugh. He gives her a quizzical glance.

"Case, is something is bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?" His eyes can't mask the hurt he feels and she drops back onto the couch next to him. Grabbing his hand, she squeezes it before speaking.

"I know," she says barely above a whisper but for some reason unknown to her, her tongue is tied and she can't tell him what's going on with her. Leaning forward, he mumbles an 'I love you' against the side of her head before planting a soft kiss.

"So my lady, will you be so kind as to accompany me to the movies this fine morning? We can even break the bank and spring for two caser salads at Panera for lunch afterwards," he tells her.

"I, uh, I'll go shower then," she says standing up and walking back towards where she woke up this morning. Before she crosses into the other room, he pulls her back towards until he body is flush against his.

"Or, maybe, we could just stay in and eat pie…in bed," he mumbles as he captures her lips with his. His hands slide down her back and begin to lift the edge of the shirt she's wearing as she pushes her body closer to his. Suddenly and without warning, Casey realizes that _this_ feels right.

Oh, so right.

--

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ash, turn it off," Casey groans, her head throbbing.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Ashleigh," she groans again.

"Alright, alright," Ashleigh tells Casey as she hits the snooze button for her previously drunk friend.

Casey's eyes fly open when she realizes her friend is actually there. Throwing back the familiar pink covers, she jumps out of bed and hugs her friend.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's this all about?"

"You're here!" Casey squeals.

"Uh, duh. Where else would I be?" Ashleigh asks as she detangles herself from Casey.

"I had the worst dream, Ash. Well, one bad and one good," Casey informs her.

"And?" Ashleigh prompts.

"And I know what I need to do now," Casey says as she picks up a pair of discarded jeans off the floor and a shirt from the closet before running into the bathroom next door.

--

"Casey?" Cappie asks as he opens the door to his room. Perched on the edge of his messy bed is his ex-girlfriend.

"I had dream about you last night," Casey tells him without looking up as she fiddles with the edge of his covers.

"Really?" He asks as he shuts the door and leans up against it.

"Yeah. Well, it was a dream about you _and _Evan."

"Not a threesome, I hope."

"No," she says with a role of his eyes. "Actually, I was a mom with three kids, one of whom told me I worked out all the time so Evan wouldn't chunk my fat, pregnancy bloated ass out on the street for a _real_ wife."

"Asshole," Cappie mutters.

"Hey! That's my kid you're talking about," Casey sarcastically chastises with fake hurt.

"Sorry, mom," he says with a smirk. "So where do I come into all of this? I'm not the sexy gardener you're banging on the side, am I?"

"No," she says with disdain. "Actually, after that, I woke up married to you. And you," she pauses. "You were caring, funny, and the entire time you kept asking me if I was okay. And you, you took my breath away in a way that felt completely natural. Like we had been together forever."

"And?" Cappie prompts trying with all of his might not to get his hopes up but failing miserably.

"And I realized, that you and I…You and I are right for one another. And I…I'm hoping that we could give this another shot?" She asks hoping that he won't demand she leaves his room. Lunging towards her, he captures her lips and pushes her back against the bed.

"I'm so glad I'm not the gardener," he mumbles against the crook of her neck.

"This is right," Casey mumbles in response.


End file.
